Life in my stomach
by MorbidMotive
Summary: Titled inspired by the song by B-mike. Omegaverse. John finds out he's pregnant, but Sherlock made it clear he doesn't want a child. Will he change his mind? Story revolves around the good and the hard times of Sherlock and John as they try to start a family, and protect the unborn child from the dangers their life brings. mpreg, johnlock, fluff, family, rated 'T' to be safe
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Sherlock or the song 'Life in my stomach' by B-mike**

Chapter 1

John laid in bed with Sherlock's arms wrapped around him. He couldn't sleep, not now. He placed a hand on his stomach and rubbed it gently, trying to ease the nausea that had built up inside. He had missed his heat, and he had began to feel sick in the morning. He tried not to think about it, tried to tell himself that he was just being paranoid, but he was a doctor, and he knew that most likely wasn't the case. He was only pulled out of his nervous thoughts when he heard Sherlock speak up.

"You alright?" his husband asked.

"Yeah," John answered, albeit distantly.

"You don't sound alright. What are you thinking about?"

John was silent for a moment before sighing and speaking. "Have you ever thought about… having a baby?"

Now it was Sherlock's turn to be silent. "No, not really."

"Well, would it be something you would want to do? With me?"

Sherlock sighed and turned John over to look at him, though the doctor had a hard time looking him in the eye. He knew what was coming. "I'm sorry, John, but my answer is no. I've never wanted to have children, and that's just how it is with me. Besides that, our life isn't safe for a child. So no. I love you, so much, but I don't want a child."

John nodded and turned away right before tears could gather in his eyes. He grabbed Sherlock's hand and stroked it with his thumb, but only to give Sherlock the false illusion that he was okay.

"What if, what if I get pregnant? What then?"

"Well, we could always give it up for adoption, or…"

"Or what, Sherlock?" John asked quietly, not trusting his voice. He knew what was coming but there was a small part of him that wanted to believe Sherlock wouldn't say what was inevitably about to be said.

"Or... you could have an abortion."

John wanted to shiver at the thought, but he controlled the urge. He couldn't really blame Sherlock, that was just how he was, and he couldn't force him to want a child and shouldn't force him to be a parent, but it may have been a bit too late for that. John nodded and pulled the covers up to his chin, placing a hand on his stomach to protect whatever life may or may not be inside.

* * *

John walked through the park, the words the doctor had spoken to him ringing in his ears.

_Congratulations, Doctor Watson. You're pregnant._

He should be happy, those were meant to be some of the happiest words in his life, but instead they were some of the worst. How was he going to tell Sherlock? What was he going to do? He wasn't going to abort it, he refused to do that to an unborn child, but while he didn't want to give it up, he couldn't lose Sherlock, but at the same time, he couldn't leave Sherlock. John put his hands to his head and rubbed his temples to try and get rid of the forming headache. He decided he would think more about it later, but for now, he looked down at his stomach and smiled. He placed a hand upon it and rubbed it lovingly, before quietly singing:

_I can feel you kicking, little angel  
don't worry about the sorrow  
_'_cause daddy's going to be right here until you see tomorrow  
I feel your life in my stomach  
I promise I'll protect it because nobody comes above it._

It was then that John's phone dinged with a text from Lestrade, asking if John wanted to meet him at the pub. John agreed, figuring he might as well tell someone the good (or so he hoped) news. The pub wasn't far, so John decided to walk and enjoy the fresh air.

"Oi, John! Over here!" he heard as he walked into the pub. He looked to his right to see Lestrade sitting in a booth, since the bar was full. John walked over to him and slid in across from him.

"Hey, Greg," he greeted.

"Should we go get our drinks?" Lestrade asked, motioning towards the full bar.

"Uh, you go ahead, Greg. I'm not going to have anything."

At this, the DI cocked an eyebrow. "Are you alright? You always get a pint when we come here."

"Yeah, uh, fine. It's just that I, well, I found out I'm pregnant today."

"That's great, John!" Greg congratulated the omega. "How did Sherlock react?" At the look on John's face at the mention of Sherlock, he knew something was wrong. "Dear god, what did he say this time?"

"He doesn't know, but, I asked him if he would be open to the idea last night, and he said no."

"But I'm sure now that it's actually happened, he'll understand."

"I asked him about if this were to happen, and that answer wasn't much better," John said quietly, just barely loud enough for Greg to hear over the loudness of the pub.

"What are you going to do?" The beta asked.

"I don't know. I'm _not _going to abort it, but I don't want to give it up, either."

"And you shouldn't have to. This is important, John."

"But, at the same time, I can't and don't want to force Sherlock to be a parent if he doesn't want to be, but I can't lose him."

Greg smiled sympathetically. "Well, no matter what you decide to do, I'm here for you."

"Thanks, Greg," John smiled. It was returned before realization struck Greg's eyes.

"Bloody hell, you're pregnant! What are we doing in a pub? Let's get out of here and go somewhere better.

A few hours later, John walked into his flat to be met with the sight of Sherlock, obviously locked in his mind palace. John didn't mind though, it gave him an excuse to avoid talking to Sherlock about this whole ordeal. Instead, he made himself some tea and sat down with the paper in his armchair.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Three weeks later

John walked into the 221B, struggling with bags from Tesco as he climbed the stairs and tried to open the door. When he finally did, he was met with Sherlock standing there, reaching out for the doorknob.

"Oh, uh, here let me help you with those," Sherlock said as he took some of the bags from John's hands and placed them on the table.

"Thanks, love," John said with a smile, giving Sherlock a kiss once the bags were set down. "So, where were you off to?"

"To find you, actually."

"Oh, really? Is everything alright?"

"We need to talk."

John didn't like where this was going, but didn't say anything. Instead, he followed Sherlock to the living room and sat in his chair. Sherlock just watched him for a while, and it made John a bit uncomfortable. He made sure to look anywhere but Sherlock's eyes, until the velvety baritone voice spoke up.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" John asked. Sherlock gave him one of his famous 'don't-be-an-idiot' looks.

"You know what. You think I haven't noticed the bump? Or the fact that your scent has changed?"

John sighed. No use in trying to hide it from Sherlock. Once he knew something, there was no convincing him otherwise. "I was trying to decide what to do," he said quietly.

"What do you mean, 'decide what to do?'"

"You bloody know what I mean, Sherlock!" he shouted. "I was trying to decide how to deal with this!"

"What did you decide?" Sherlock asked, a hint of uncovered nervousness in his voice.

"I haven't! That's why I didn't tell you! Christ, Sherlock, you only gave me three bloody options!"

"What are you talking about?"

"That night a few weeks ago, when I asked what you would think if I were to get pregnant and you said a) give it up for adoption, b) abort it, which I am _not_ going to do, and then there was the unspoken one, c) leave you and keep the baby. What was I supposed to do?! I don't want to give this baby up but I can't lose you!"

Sherlock looked confused, then his eyes became vacant as he entered his mind palace, running over the details about that night. It was about three agonizingly silent minutes later that his eyes returned to normal and he looked at John, guilt in his eyes that only grew as he saw the angry and hurt tears in his husband's eyes.

"John," he said quietly, "I am so sorry. If I had known…"

"That's why I asked. I wanted to know how you would react if it turned out that I really was pregnant. I went to the doctor's the next day, and it was clarified."

"That explains why you weren't as… enthusiastic… as you usually are when in heat. You simply weren't." John only nodded, not looking him in the eye. Sherlock stood up and walked over to the doctor, took his hand, and lead him to the couch. They sat down next to each other and Sherlock wrapped John in his arms and held him close. "I really am sorry." John nodded again, not saying anything. "What is it you _want _to do?"

"Honestly? I want to keep the baby and stay with you, but, I can't force you to be a parent if you don't want to be. I guess… I guess I'll, give it up for adoption," John said sadly, tears pricking at his eyes but he only allowed a few to fall. He didn't want to guilt-trip Sherlock into this.

Sherlock hugged him tighter and kissed the top of his head lovingly. "You know, being a parent might not be so bad."

"Sherlock, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it isn't fair to you if you have to be a parent when you aren't ready or don't want to be. I can't ask that of you."

"You're not forcing me. I'm sure that I'll warm up to the idea," he said reassuringly. "I mean, I used to say that I would never care to be in a relationship, and look at me now, married to the greatest man in the world." He kissed John's temple, smiling when he felt John smile.

"You don't know how relieved I am to hear you say that."

Sherlock smiled and gave his husband a kiss on the lips, before gently and tentatively placing a hand on John's stomach, next to John's. He couldn't help the small smile that crossed his face. Sure he had never really wanted to be a parent, but in all honesty he never really _expected_ to be a parent. In school, he was one of the only alfa's to not be interested in mating with anyone, whether they be alpha, beta, or never expected to be a best friend and husband either, and he was already beginning to warm up to the idea. "We're having a baby," he said, his tone holding a mix of anxiety and joy.

"Yeah, we really are, aren't we?"

"This is going to be an, interesting, experience."

John chuckled. "Yeah, but we'll get through it."

Sherlock and smiled and kissed him once again. "I know we will."

"Do you think we should tell Mrs. Hudson, or wait?"

"Let's tell her tomorrow. We can go out to Angelo's with everyone we want to tell and tell them then."

John nodded in agreement and adjusted himself so he was sitting between Sherlock's legs and leaning against his chest as Sherlock rested his hands on his ever-so-slightly swollen stomach. They turned the television on and watched some Doctor Who and come time for dinner, the two got chinese takeaway, probably the last for John for a while since he had to eat healthier for the baby now. They pulled they duvet off their bed and wrapped it around them as they continued to eat and watch t.v until they fell asleep some hours later, warm and wrapped in each others arms.

* * *

**Sorry that this chapter was another short one. Hope you liked it though! Bit of fluff for you there at the ending :) Next chapter should be up soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When Sherlock and John arrived at Angelo's Molly, Lestrade, Mycroft-who John said they needed to invite, no matter how much Sherlock disliked the idea- and Mrs. Hudson where already at the table waiting for them. They were greeted as they showed themselves to the table with smiles and hugs. They barely sat down before Mrs. Hudson asked the question that was on three of the six minds.

"So, what's the news?"

John looked up at Sherlock and smiled before saying "We're having a baby."

They were congratulated with cheers and smiles as Mrs. Hudson and molly hugged them, and Lestrade clapped his friends on the shoulder.

"How far along are you?" Molly asked as they sat back down.

"A month," John and Sherlock answered in unison.

"This really is great news, boys," Mrs. Hudson said.

"Indeed, it is," Mycroft agreed. He then raised his glass. "To the new parents."

The others raised their glasses, repeated his words and clinked their glasses together.

The night continued like that, chattering and laughing as the group conversed. Angelo came over and congratulated his favorite customers on their wonderful news, told everyone their food was on the house, and left them with their food.

When it was over, and everyone went home, Sherlock and John walked to the park for a while. They sat on a hill and looked up at the stars, snuggled close together as the cool spring breeze tickled their skin.

"What are we going to name it?" Sherlock asked.

"I don't know. I haven't really thought about it, but we have plenty of time for that."

Sherlock nodded, and for a while there was silence. Then Sherlock spoke up once more. "What about Hamish?"

"Sherlock, you know I hate my middle name. What about Tyler?"

"Possible. Oliver?"

"Maybe. What about Peter?"

"Peter Watson-Holmes. It sounds nice," Sherlock smiled.

"What if it's a girl?"

"Hmm. Anna?"

"Lucy?"

"Jamie?"

"Isabelle?"

"Sydney?"

"Olivia?"

"Lydia?

"Katherine?"

"Sophia?"

"Sophia. Sophia Watson-Holmes. Perfect, the name even means wisdom in greek," John smiled and kissed Sherlock. "We just named our baby, Love," he said proudly, making Sherlock's smile widen also.

"Yeah, we did," he said as he put a hand on John's stomach, followed by John. "I'm so happy," he said, "I don't know what I did to deserve this life, but I'd do it a thousand times over."

"Me too. I thought my life was over after Afghanistan, but then I met you. I love you."

"I love you too. It's starting to get a bit chilly, let's go home."

"Sounds wonderful."

Sherlock helped John stand and entwined their fingers together as they began their journey back to their home. As they walked, Sherlock caught sight of a familiar face on the other side of the street. He looked over, only to find his old drug dealer. The man was watching him as he walked with John, as if beckoning him to come and buy from him. Sherlock didn't even consider it. Not only because he had been clean for nearly seven years, but because he simply didn't need them. He had John, and having John was better than any high he could have possibly reached.

Sherlock shook his head 'no' at the man and continued to walk home with John, making sure to take a different route home, in case they were followed. He knew what Anthony Nolan was capable of, and he didn't want him anywhere near his husband or unborn child.

When they arrived, after checking to make sure they hadn't been followed, Sherlock lead John up to their room, where they changed into their pajamas and went to bed, enjoying the feel of the welcoming mattress as they laid down on it. John scooted over to Sherlock and laid his head on his shoulder, throwing an arm over his stomach as Sherlock held his hand. John was asleep within minutes but Sherlock stayed awake, watching John's stomach as if he could see the baby. When he realized that wasn't going to happen, he began to think about what their life may be like after the little one arrived.

He closed his eyes as he pictured it, he and John with their child. In the dream it started with a boy. _Peter,_ Sherlock thought in his sleep as a smile graced his face.

_Peter was running around a grassy field, John chasing him. He ran over to a slide to hide, but Sherlock jumped out at him, causing the child to giggle and run in the opposite direction. John eventually caught him and scooped him up in his arms, kissing his son on the forehead as he laughed and squirmed. Sherlock ran over as John threw him up in the air a little and caught him. The little boy smiled and reached out for Sherlock, who took him in his arms and cuddled his son to his chest._

After a while, it switched to a different place and they were with a little girl. _Sophie,_ he thought. Both of the dream children were a perfect mix of John and himself, sharing their features to create beautiful children.

_The little girl, who couldn't have been more than two, reached her arms up her John to pick her up, and when he did, she reached down and put a little hand on John's tummy._

"_Baby," she said with an adorable smile. John smiled at her and kissed her temple._

"_That's right, sweety, baby. You're going to have a baby brother or sister." _

_The little girl smiled and then wrapped her arms around John's neck. John rubbed her back and Sherlock kissed her hair as she fell asleep, and Sherlock woke up._

Sherlock awoke to the sound and feeling of John rushing out of bed and to the bathroom, where he could be heard throwing up. Sherlock grimaced at the sound. _Great,_ he thought, _morning sickness. Poor John._

He looked at the clock to see it was six in the morning. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and walked to the bathroom to find John leaning against the tub. Sherlock sat next to him and placed an arm around his shoulders. "You alright?"

"Yeah, it's normal. Might as well get used to it."

Sherlock rubbed the side of John's sweaty head and kissed his hair. John threw up a few more times, went back to bed, and slept until noon.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

John and Sherlock sat in the doctor's office, having their second ultrasound. John was four months along now, and they would be able to see if the baby was developing well.

The doctor rubbed the cold gel around on John's stomach with the small device a bit before the sound of their baby's heartbeat filled the room, bringing smiles to the proud parent's faces. Sherlock took hold of John's hand and smiled at him.

"Everything looks good," she said. "Did you want to know the gender?"

"Yes," the husbands said in unison, earning a smile from the doctor.

"Alright, hold on a second," she said as she moved the device around a bit more. She stopped and squinted her eyes before smiling.

"Congratulations," she said as she turned the screen towards them to see, "you're having a son."

Both Sherlock and John's faces lit up. They really didn't care what the gender was, they were just glad to know.

"Peter," John quietly but contently breathed out. "Sherlock, that's our baby, that's our son," he said as he began to get teary-eyed.

"I know, and he's beautiful, just like his daddy," Sherlock said as he too got teary-eyed, he leaned down and gave John a loving kiss.

"And his papa."

The doctor shut the machine off and handed John a towel to wipe his stomach off, then walked out to get print the pictures of Peter.

John wiped his stomach off and placed the towel on the counter before pulling his jumper down. He felt warm arms wrap around him from behind and held onto them. He turned his head to face Sherlock and smiled at him before giving him a kiss, which was reciprocated. As they kissed, Sherlock's arms moved up a bit and he placed his hands on John's bump, both freezing when they felt a small nudge from within.

"Sherlock..." John whispered.

"Was that…"

"It was," he smiled. "That was our baby kicking."

Their smiles returned as John turned around in Sherlock's arms and hugged him tight. Sherlock hugged him tight as well, but not quite as tight because of the bump. Sherlock pulled away slightly and removed an arm from John's shoulders, using it to rub the side of his bump lovingly. When they doctor walked back in and handed them the pictures, they thanked her and left.

They decided to stop for lunch. Since John had his ultrasound and couldn't eat for twelve hours before hand, not to mention that he was now eating for two, he was quite hungry. They got some sandwiches at Speedy's, on the house since Sherlock had done them a favor once. Being married to the world's greatest detective and world's _only _consulting detective had it's perks. They decided that since it was nice out, and John loved the sun in the fall that they would eat outside, so they walked to the park and sat on a bench, the same bench John sat on the day he found out he was pregnant. It had a nice view of the park, but at the same time was secluded from the rest park so whoever sat there could sit in privacy. John found himself at this bench a lot.

Once they were done with their lunch, John wanted to stop at a small store one of his friends from Afghanistan worked at, so they made their way down to the part of town where the store was located. They were barely in the store before John's friend noticed him and walked over, clapping a hand on his shoulder and looking down at his baby bump.

"Congrats, mate!"

"Thanks, Drew. How've you been?"

"Great, just great. Melanie and I just got back from our honeymoon."

"How's she doing."

"She's wonderful."

"That's great!"

As John and Drew continued to talk, Sherlock glanced out the window, stopping when he saw the familiar and quite unpleasant face of Anthony Nolan, watching him from across the street. Nolan motioned for him to come over. He walked over to the door, telling John he needed a bit of fresh air and that he would be back in a minute, before walking across the street and to Nolan, who stood in an alley. _Cliche, _Sherlock thought to himself.

"What do you want? Why won't you leave my husband and I alone?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Nolan said, feigning innocence.

"You have been showing up everywhere since I first saw you again three months ago. What the hell do you want?"

"What the fuck do you think I want? I want back what we had!"

"What we had? You make it sound as if we were in a bloody romance! You sold to me, I bought from you. That was all we 'had' together, and I'm clean now. No interest in going back thank you very much. Now leave us the fuck alone," he hissed.

"You owe me Holmes!"

"For what?! I paid you in full every time I bought from you! I owe you nothing!"

"Sherlock?" came John's voice. "Sherlock, what's going on?"

"Ah," Nolan mused, "so this is your little bitch-male. I have to say, Sherly, you could have done better." His gaze moved downwards a bit. "Oh, and what is this? You have a little brat on the way?"

"Listen, I don't know who you are, but-" John didn't get a chance to finish his sentence, because the next thing he knew, Nolan pushed him back, hard, and he slammed his back and head into the brick wall before sliding to the ground, his vision blurry and unstable.

"John!" Sherlock called. He was about to punch Nolan, but unfortunately, Nolan was the better fighter and threw a hard punch to his temple, causing his vision to blank and for him to fall to the ground. He couldn't see straight very well, infact everything was really bright, but he _could _see Nolan walking over to John. He tried to warn his husband, but it came out an incoherent grunt.

Nolan walked over to John, who had a throbbing headache and whose vision was crossed. Before John could do anything, Nolan gave a hard kick to his stomach. John cried out in pain and utter fear for his unborn son, then Nolan grabbed him by the hair, said "Goodbye, little kiddie," then kicked him again. Police sirens could be heard as he walked further down the alley. Sherlock's vision began to return and he quickly made his way over to John, pulling John's gun out of his pocket and firing it at Nolan, getting him in the back of the chest. For once Mycroft's constant spying came to good use. As Lestrade and a few other officer's made their way over to the two, Sherlock picked John up in his arms.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Sherlock said, not even bothering to hide the panic in his voice.

"What happened?" Lestrade asked.

"There's no time for questions right now, just get him to a hospital!"

John had tears streaming down his face, but looked vacant, in too much shock to completely understand what had just happened.

Once Sherlock and John were in the police car and they were on their way, Lestrade asked once again. "Sherlock, what the hell happened?"

"The man's name is Anthony Nolan, he was my drug dealer. He hit me and then kicked John in the stomach, twice and very hard. We have to hurry!" Sherlock said frantically. Lestrade kept his eyes on the road, but he could almost hear the tears in Sherlock's eyes.

"Sherlock," John faintly whispered, "he, he's gone. I can't feel him anymore."

Sherlock barely choked back a sob at the words. He held John tighter to him and nuzzled his face into John's hair. "It'll be alright," he said, but deep down he knew it wouldn't. John had started bleeding right after the first kick, it was very unlikely they would be able to save the baby.

He held John closely as they sped down the road to the hospital. When they finally got there, they rushed John up to a private wing. Mycroft must have been informed, but that was the least of Sherlock's problems at the moment. Sherlock followed them inside and stood back as doctors and nurses did all they could do to save the baby.

It was only a few minutes later that all the doctors, except one, began to clear out of the room. Sherlock walked over to John, who no longer looked vacant, but pale and upset. The lone doctor walked over to them, and before he opened his mouth, they knew what he was going to say.

"I'm so sorry," he said sadly, "but there was nothing we could do." He turned and left the room to give the two men some privacy.

John let out a heartbreaking sob and Sherlock's arms were around him like magnets. He nuzzled his face into Sherlock's neck and sobbed harshly for the second time in his life. He wrapped his arms around Sherlock, but they were so numb that he couldn't hold on very tightly. He felt Sherlock put a hand on the back of his head and hold him firmly as he cried.

"Peter!" he sobbed into Sherlock's shoulder. At the sound of his lost child's name, the detective's chest began to heave with sobs also. He had tried to control it, to be strong for John, but he just couldn't do it right now.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he detective sobbed.

_Why? Why did this have to happen? What did either of them do to deserve this?_

They both cried until the tears stopped coming, and they were left as a weak, upset heap in each others arms. They were silent for a while, having switched to a laying position a while ago, simply nodding silently when the nurse told them they could go home when they were ready.

"I, I promised him that, that I would pr-protect his l-life," John whimpered. Sherlock tightened his grip around his husband.

"This isn't your fault. This is _not _your fault. I should have protected you."

"You did all you could do," John said quietly. He felt unbelievably weak. It was the same feeling that he had when he saw Sherlock jump. The only comfort he could feel was that he wasn't alone in this, that Sherlock was and always would be right there with him to get through this, together. Of course, at the time, it didn't feel like they would ever get through this.

Sherlock held John until he fell into a restless, uneasy sleep, then walked out to the waiting room where Molly, Lestrade, Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson were waiting. All of them, even Mycroft, had traces of tears. Mrs. Hudson rushed over to him, wrapping her arms around him and was slightly surprised when she felt him return the hug. He took a ragged breath, but didn't cry. He knew that if he cried, everyone else would too and that would make it harder.

"I'm so sorry, dear," She said tearfully.

"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," he said to the woman who was like a mother to him.

"Are you two going to be all right?" Mycroft asked, his voice coated in genuine concern for his little brother. Sherlock nodded.

"Yes. It's going to take a long while, but… we'll be okay eventually, or so I hope."

"If there's anything you need, just give us a call," Lestrade said, speaking for everyone in the room. Sherlock nodded, and let go of his landlady.

"I should get back, in case John wakes up. Lestrade, could you run to our flat and get him some clean trousers? Please?"

Lestrade nodded, John's trousers had been covered in blood from… everything. "Of course." As he began to leave, Mycroft walked slightly closer to his brother.

"I should get back to work," he said quietly, then he did something completely unexpected; he hugged his brother, and what made it even more unbelievable is that at the same time, Sherlock hugged Mycroft. "Take care, Sherlock," Mycroft said, not a hint or trace of pretentiousness in his voice. Sherlock nodded, then broke away from the hug to go back into John's room. He crawled back into the bed beside John, wrapping the man in his arms once again, both feeling hollow, both feeling numb.

* * *

**Don't hate me. This isn't the end! Not for our characters or this story, so continue reading! I highly doubt anything like this will happen again in this story, and John and Sherlock will eventually get their happy family, it just might take a while.**

**Don't forget to review! BUT NO FLAMES**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

When John woke up, Sherlock helped John to get dressed, and lead him out to Mycroft's car that would take him home. John didn't say anything the entire time. When they arrived back at the flat, John removed his coat and went to bed. Sherlock followed him and watched as John stripped to his pants and crawled in, then Sherlock did the same and crawled next to him, scooting closer and wrapping his arms around John, who was facing away. One of his hands laid on John's stomach, and the doctor started to shake and took in a ragged breath before Sherlock quickly pulled it away. He gently rolled John so he was facing him and pulled him in tight. He kissed his doctor on the forehead and rubbed his back with the pads of his fingers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you," he said.

"It's not your fault."

"We're going to get through this, you and I, okay? It'll take a while, but we'll be okay."

"I know, I'm just glad I don't have to go through this alone."

"I will always be here," he said before kissing into John's hair.

The next few days continued on like this, every time John had to see or feel his stomach, it was only a cruel reminder of the life that had been inside it. It got better, slowly, but still, and soon John was talking to people other than Sherlock again. They wouldn't ask how they were doing, the evidence was clear on their faces, but instead they would try and talk about other things to keep their mind off it. It worked most of the time, and John even cracked a few smiles, but when they would go home, and all they had was themselves, it wasn't as easy. It was as if the harsh quiet taunted them with the fact they had lost a child. Sherlock started opening windows to let in the sounds of the street and city inside, and sometimes John and Sherlock would just sit on the couch and listen to it.

After about two weeks, John returned part-time to the surgery, and the others all told him that if he needed to go home, or decided he wasn't ready yet, he could leave and return when he felt comfortable. He put on a happy facade for his patients and co-workers, but when he got home, he would curl up next to Sherlock, give him a kiss, and watch crap telly, all without saying anything more than an "I love you, so much."

About five weeks after everything happened, John sat out in the living room while Sherlock continued to sleep in their room. He tried to watch t.v, and opening the window to let some sound in, but nothing helped. So he did the one thing he knew would occupy his mind, he went to the pub. Sherlock awoke the the sound of the door to the flat shutting, a bit hard at that, and walked out into the living room and looked out of the window, just in time to see John catching a cab.

"Oh, John," Sherlock whispered sadly as he watched his husband leave for the pub. It was about half past nineteen hundred, and Sherlock had been asleep while John was at work. At least it was a friday, and John didn't work on weekends.

Sherlock walked back into his room and got dressed, then went out to catch a cab to the pub.

It wasn't to hard to find John, he was sitting at the bar, drinking a pint. Sherlock walked over to him and sat next to him.

"Oh, hi, love" he said.

"Hey," Sherlock greeted as he took one of John's hands in his own.

"What are you doing here?"

"Thought I would join you." He told the barman he also would have a pint, then looked to his husband. "John," he said sadly, "this won't help."

"I know, I..." he sighed, "it just, takes the pain away for a while."

"I just don't want you to end up like..."

"...I know. I won't, I promise. I just... needed this."

When Sherlock's drink came, he let go of John's hand and took a sip. He didn't love the taste of beer but he didn't hate it either. They continued to drink and soon they were relaxed enough to talk and laugh like they did before all this happened, then they began to get tipsy, then they were drunk. It didn't stop there though, and they continued to drink until they were just plain hammered. They started out just laughing about nothing, then started to make out and grope, like a few other drunk couples. They continued for a while, before John pulled away and said "Home."

Sherlock nodded and pulled him out to the street, where they caught a cab to take them home. They continued to make out and grope in the back of the cab, much to the discomfort of the cabbie. When they got home, he dismissed the charge, somewhat afraid that they would shag in the back of his cab. They ran through the door of 221B and left a trail of clothing up to their room, stark naked by the time they fell on their bed and shagged for the first time in months.

* * *

John woke up the next morning with a horrid headache. He turned over onto his stomach and buried his head deep within the pillow, trying to block out as much sound and light as possible. He had never gotten so drunk in his life.

"I think it's safe to say that we'll be spending most of the day in bed, if not all of it," he heard Sherlock's deep voice mumble.

"Yeah, I think that's for the best. I'll go get some medicine." He got up and threw on his robe as he stumbled to the medicine cabinet to get some alka-seltzer and put a pot of coffee on. When he returned to his room, he threw the tablets into two cups of water and handed one to Sherlock, which he drank then placed their empty glasses on the table. Sherlock curled himself up in Johns arms and pulled the duvet up over his head.

"I enjoyed last night," came the mumbled voice from under the blanket.

"Me too," he said smiling. "Let's go back to sleep."

"That sounds marvelous," Sherlock mumbled, already half way into unconsciousness. John kissed his forehead, and fell asleep himself.

* * *

**I know, these chapters have been pretty small, but they will start getting longer soon!**

**Don't forget to review, fave, and follow!**

**NO FLAMES**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

John walked through the door to the flat after a long day, to be met with Sherlock experimenting in the kitchen.

"Hello," the detective said without looking up. John rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.

"Hello, love." He kissed Sherlock's hair before going into their room to change. He put on some jeans and a jumper before going back out. He walked back into the kitchen and looked through the cupboards. They were almost empty, again. He sighed, turning back to the detective. "You want to get take away?"

"Sure. Chinese?"

"Actually, I was thinking Indian."

Sherlock's brow furrowed a bit as he looked away from his experiment. "Indian? You hate indian food. I've only ever seen you eat it once and that was when…" he stopped as realization hit him full force, he thought he was going to be thrown off his seat. He looked up at John, who was grinning from ear to ear. "You, you're… you mean, you're… you…"

"Yes, Sherlock, I'm pregnant. Took off work early to get it confirmed. Should be due in March, but it's too soon to tell yet."

Sherlock grinned just as wide as John was before standing up and wrapping John in his arms. They held each other tightly, letting the news set in for a few minutes before Sherlock pulled away slightly and firmly pressed his lips to John's.

"This is great!" he said.

"I know!"

"You're not allowed to leave the flat."

"Sherlock, I can't just stay in the flat the whole nine months. I'll just have to be… just, have to be careful."

Neither of them spoke for a moment, having a moment of silence of sorts for their lost baby, before they looked into each other's eyes and shared a small, sad smile. John must have been crying, because Sherlock reached a hand out and gently wiped John's eyes with his thumb and kissed his forehead gently, before John reached out and wiped away Sherlock's own tears and cup his right cheek with his left hand, offering another small sad smile. Sherlock put his hand on John's and leaned into the touch. He wrapped his arms around John and nestled his face into his shoulder.

"I know, love. I'm still upset about it too. It's something we'll never get over, losing a child, born or unborn. But, we'll be okay."

Sherlock looked at him and smiled sadly again. He sniffled, and said "Yeah, we will be, won't we?" He looked down at and placed a hand on John's still mostly-firm-yet-still-a-little-pudgy stomach.

"Only three weeks," John said, as if reading Sherlock's mind.

Sherlock leaned in and kissed John lovingly, only breaking apart for air.

"I guess it's a good thing I joined you at the pub that night."

John chuckled as he rested his forehead against Sherlock's. "I guess it was. This is completely worth the hangovers we had the next day."

"Absolutely."

Later that night, while Sherlock was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, John laid in their bed looking at the picture of Peter, which had been put in a frame, gently brushing his fingers over his baby. It made his heart ache and his eyes began to water up, but he didn't look away.

That's how Sherlock found him, Laying in bed with tears in his eyes as he looked at the picture of their son, their son who never got his chance at life.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm afraid I'll forget him, with the new baby, what if I'm so busy-"

"You won't forget him. I promise, John, that won't happen. He was our baby, and we both love him very much." John nodded and sniffled.

"I suppose we should choose another name for a boy," John said, not looking away from the picture.

"Actually, I was thinking that if it's a boy, we could name him after his brother."

John looked up at his husband and smiled a little. "I think that's a beautiful idea, love."

Sherlock smiled and kissed John, who then turned and put the picture back on his bedside table, then nuzzled himself Into Sherlock's arms.

John awoke late the next morning, slightly panicked at the thought he would be late for work, before he remembered it was a saturday. He rolled over to face Sherlock, but the detective wasn't there. In his place was a quickly scrawled note.

_Lestrade called for a case._

_You can't come, you're pregnant. _

_Love you,_

_Sherlock_

John smiled at the note before sitting up and getting ready for the day. He decided he would go and do the shopping while Sherlock was out, since they were nearly all out of food and he knew that he would be hungry in about an hour and a half. He didn't get much, just some bread, fruits and vegetables, meat and a small box of pasta. Then he got some pickles, since he had really enjoyed them during his last pregnancy. He made the mistake of using the pin and chip machine, so checking out took about ten minutes, but when he finally got out of the store, he was met by Mike Stamford. They talked a bit, John told Mike the good news, and invited Mike to the flat for a while to catch up since he hadn't seen him in a long while.

Mrs. Hudson caught them on the way up, and John introduced Mike to the famous (or when protecting her boys, infamous) Mrs. Hudson, who soon after brought up tea and biscuits, but only this once, because she certainly wasn't their housekeeper. The two friends sat down and talked over a cuppa.

"So, you never did tell me what you were going to name the little one."

"Sophia for a girl, or Peter for a boy, after his brother."

"That's very sweet," he said sincerely. John smiled sadly, and Mike changed the topic.

"So, where's Sherlock?"

"On a case."

"Figured as much," Mike chuckled. As if on cue, Sherlock popped in at that moment. "Ah, hello, Sherlock," he greeted.

"Hello, Mike. Hello, John," he said as he gave John a kiss before plopping into his chair.

"Congratulations," Mike said.

"Thank you," Sherlock smiled.

"Well, I should be going, John nice to catch up with you. See you soon."

"Sounds good, Mike. Have a nice day." When Mike was gone, John turned to Sherlock. "How was the case?"

"Dull."

"So I see."

"Pardon?"

"When you came inside, you didn't even bother to take off your coat and scarf, so you were sulking, and they way you sat down in your chair, all slumped and out of your usual posture, tells me that you're bored, and we both know that you have an post-case-high for approximately half an hour if the case was good. If that were the case, you would have better posture, or be energetic, and you are neither. The note you wrote this morning. I awoke soon after you left because the ink was still fresh, and I know that the case was some ways away because you're coat and hair are damp, indicating rain and there isn't a rain cloud in the sky here, therefore, most of the trip was spent getting there and back. So you are sulking, lazy, and you weren't there very long, which wouldn't happen if it were a good case, therefore the case was no more than a two, three at most."

Sherlock grinned widely at his husband. "I'm impressed. Your deducing skills are improving, Dr. Watson-Holmes."

"Thank you, Mr. Watson-Holmes."

Sherlock got up and walked over to John, straddling his legs as he looked down at his husband, a smile gracing his features. "I missed you," he said. John smiled back and gave him a kiss.

"I missed you too."

"Take away and Doctor Who marathon tonight?"

"Sounds wonderful."

"Indian?"

"I'm not sure yet, we'll have to see when the time comes. I don't feel like it now, but it may change later."

As dinner time neared John found himself thankful that he wasn't craving indian food like he was the night before. He was also glad that he had an excuse to eat, The baby obviously yet thankfully hadn't inherited Sherlock's eating poor eating habits, but he prayed he or she didn't develop Sherlock's sleeping habits either.

They ordered chinese from the small shop a few blocks down and Sherlock went to get it, leaving John to fend for himself from the crap telly. When he arrived, he handed John his lo-mein and sat down with his sweet and sour chicken. They watched most of season five of the new series before they fell asleep on the couch, chinese food forgotten on the table.

* * *

**Yay, they're pregnant again! Hope you liked this chapter, I made it longer for you!**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Month 1

John sat down on the couch as he and Sherlock entered the flat. They'd had their first ultrasound today, and got the due date of March 15th. They had gone in for an early ultrasound just to make sure that everything was as it should be, to listen for a heartbeat mainly. Everything looked good so far, and it was a beautiful way to start their July month.

"It's only the 8th of July and I can barely wait," Sherlock said during the cab ride home. John smiled as he grabbed Sherlock's hand and gave it a kiss.

"I know, but we're just going to have to wait."

"I know."

The cab pulled up to 221B and after paying the cabbie, Sherlock pulled his omega in for a kiss. When they got into the flat, John walked into the kitchen to find a container of homemade soup from Mrs. Hudson waiting for them on the table. He smiled at the gesture, and the fact that Mrs. Hudson knew he would want soup. He heated some up for himself before filling a bowl for Sherlock. The alpha may not eat very much, but he loved Mrs. Hudson's chicken noodle soup. When he came out to the smell of the delicious soup he couldn't help the grin that spread across his alabaster skin.

"This day keeps getting better. Now if only Lestrade would give me a really good case," he grumbled the last part.

"Sorry, love, but when you married me, you married my boredom too, even if you're an alpha."

"Well, then," he said as he wrapped his arms around John's waist from behind, "we should find something to do."

"What did you have in mind?" John asked, a small grin playing at his lips as he turned to look at Sherlock.

"We could play cluedo?"

John had to laugh, that was the biggest turnoff that he had ever witnessed. "We are _not _playing bloody cluedo."

"Well, we could always," he said as he leaned in, pausing to place kisses on John's neck, loving the feeling of the doctor shuddering underneath him, "go to bed early."

"Well, you know," John paused to inhale pleasure before continuing, "I don't think I'll be able to sleep very well right now."

"Oh? Well, that's not a problem."

Some hours later, Sherlock and John were laying in their bed, naked, with the window open as small drops of rain fell outside. It was an enchanting scene, and it held both their attention. They were propped up against the headboard and Sherlock had an arm around John's shoulders as he rubbed the side of the omega's stomach lovingly, while John leaned his head on Sherlock's shoulder, almost asleep. The sound of the rain as it pattered down outside was just as captivating and lulling as Sherlock's violin, when he didn't play it just to annoy John or anyone else in the room.

John stayed awake as long as he could will his body to let him, but the rain outside, Sherlock's scent and the feel of his fingers as they brushed his skin, not to mention he was worn out from a wonderful session of lovemaking, he fell into a deep slumber.

When Sherlock felt John's breathing slow to a steady pace, he gently moved them both down in the bed so that they were laying down, the last thing John would need when he woke up was a sore back since he would get plenty of those once the baby grew. He positioned himself so that John's head was laying comfortably on his shoulder and the duvet was pulled up around the two of them to keep them warm.

* * *

John woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going ballistic, letting him know that he had to work today. He groaned as he sat up and stretched his muscular limbs, careful not to disturb Sherlock, who didn't even moved at the horrendous beeping.

He showered, shaved, got dressed and went out to make some breakfast and tea, making enough tea for two since Sherlock would be up by the time it was finished, as always. He waited until the kettle screamed and poured the two cups just as Sherlock walked out, hair disheveled, wearing only pajama bottoms.

"Tea," John said as he held the cup out towards his husband. He didn't even have to listen or look up to know he was there, it was just routine to them now.

"Thanks," Sherlock yawned. He walked up to John and placed his head on his shoulder tiredly. He could have fallen asleep right there standing up if John hadn't gently nudged him off. "Come back to bed."

"Sorry, love, I can't. Got to go to work today, and before you tell me to call in sick, I can't because we're short and I'm needed.

"You're needed here too. Think of how bored I'll be without you."

"Maybe Lestrade will give you a case. If not, go to your mind palace, it will seem like ten seconds before I'm back. Don't get me wrong, I would love to stay home and entertain you, but we all have to make sacrifices, love."

"It's not fair," Sherlock pouted, his voice muffled in the fabric of John's shirt. John rolled his eyes and kissed the alpha's temple.

"I've got to get going. See you tonight, love."

"If you really must go, I'll see you after you get back. Love you," he said before giving John a proper kiss that made him seriously think about calling in to work, but he knew he couldn't, and Sherlock would just have to wait until he got home.

Sherlock watched as John climbed into the taxi, and continued to watch until it was out of his field of vision. He sighed as he told himself that John would be fine on his own. He walked over to his chair and sat down, he didn't have a case to think about or any friends he could, or would, go see. He sat there for a few moments before deciding to re, so he got up and grabbed the nearest book. It was one of John's favorites, _The Hobbit._ Sherlock constantly told John that such literature was nonsense, but it reminded him of John and it would give him something to do. As he opened the book and the smell of literature sprang at his nose he found himself a tad curious about the whole plot. Hobbits, dwarves, wizards and dragons, he hadn't read such things since he was a boy and had wanted to be a pirate.

_In a hole in the ground, there live a hobbit._

Some hours later, John walked into the flat to find Sherlock reading the last book in the _Lord Of the Rings _series. He blinked a few times as if to make sure what he was seeing was real, and when he realized it was, he allowed himself a small victorious smirk.

"I thought you said those books were nonsense."

"They are, but they're brilliantly-written, imaginative, captivating pieces of nonsense."

"Ah, I see," John said as he walked over and sat on Sherlock's lap. Sherlock put the book down and looked up at John, who leaned in and kissed him.

"How was work?"

"Boring, of course."

"Well, I tried to warn you. Maybe you should listen to me more often."

"I do listen to you. It's you who doesn't listen to me."

"Touche."

John chuckled a little and placed a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips. "I'm going to go sleep for a bit. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure."

The two of them walked to the bedroom, making it to the door before Sherlock bound back into the living room to get his book. They stripped down to the pants and crawled into bed, John snuggling into Sherlock's one arm embrace. A kiss was planted to the top of his head as the pads of Sherlock's fingers brushed over his arm lightly, pulling him out of consciousness and into slumber within minutes.

* * *

**Don't forget to fave, follow and review! BUT NO FLAMES**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Month 3-September

John rubbed his baby bump contently as he sat on the couch with Mrs. Hudson, watching crap telly. Sherlock had gone out on a case and so John had nothing to do, when Mrs. Hudson came up and offered to watch with him. He enjoyed days like this with his landlady, she was like a mother to him and since he had lost his parents when he was younger, sometimes that was just what he needed.

Occasionally, something would happen on t.v that would make them chuckle or laugh, but most of the shows were so sappy or angsty that it was almost sickening. Once fifteen hundred came, they immediately switched it to Doctor Who, a favorite of theirs, it was always nice to be able to rely on The Doctor after so many awful shows.

John smiled down at his stomach. He could feel the baby moving inside him, though it had yet to start kicking, something he had been informed wouldn't happen until most likely the next month.

When Doctor Who ended and was replaced by the dreadful dramas neither of them liked, they decided to go out for a walk in the park. Fresh air was good for the baby, and they both loved the park, especially in the late-summer early-fall time of year, when the temperature was lovely and the leaves started to tint into different colors. As they walked, John noticed a few other expecting omega's, some male, some female, if he walked past one he would congratulate them, and he or she would do the same to him. He saw one couple that seemed to be in their last month. John couldn't wait until he and Sherlock were at that stage. He rubbed his small bump and smiled. Their baby would come in a few months but for now he enjoyed the feeling of having life in his stomach.

As they walked past the playground, a little girl walked up to the two of them and looked up at John's rounding tummy. She reached up as high as she could-she couldn't have been more than three-and when she couldn't quite reach, John kneeled down and she gently stroked his tummy. She giggled and smiled at John and Mrs. Hudson.

"Lisa!" The little girl, presumably Lisa, turned to see her mother walking towards her. "I'm sorry if she bothered you," she said, smiling apologetically.

"It's fine, really," John said, offering a reassuring smile.

"How far along are you?"

"Almost four months."

"Aw, how sweet! Good luck to you and your partner."

"Thank you," John said, waving goodbye to Lisa as he and Mrs. Hudson began their journey again.

As they started to walk back, they both decided that lunch at Speedy's was exactly what they needed. They talked about the episode of Doctor Who they had seen earlier that day when John's phone rang, he was surprised to see that it was Sherlock.

"Sherlock? What's wrong love?"

"Just wanted to make sure you were alright. I didn't know where you were."

"Mrs. Hudson and I took a walk. We're going to Speedy's, if you would like to join us."

"Sure."

The call ended and John smiled at how Protective Sherlock could be. He wasn't sure what he had done to get this life, but he would do it again.

When they entered the shop, Sherlock walked up to them and gave John a hug. He pulled away and gave John a loving kiss while rubbing the side of his belly with the pads of his fingers.

"Hungry?" He asked as he pulled away, keeping an arm around John.

"Well, that is why we came here," John chuckled. Sherlock smirked and sat them down at a table, intertwining his fingers with John's. Sherlock texted Lestrade about the case most of the time, while Mrs. Hudson and John chatted, Mrs. Hudson doing most of the talking.

When the food came, John ate his lunch happily, still getting used to being so hungry all the time. It didn't take very long, since he just got a sandwich, but it helped and the baby seemed to enjoy it at the very least. It felt good to be able to eat food that he actually liked, instead of the foods he had been craving; pickles, olives, peas, honey, and fish which was bad since everytime he smelt it he felt like he was going to puke. He was in week 11, near the end of the third month, so at least his morning sickness finally ended.

~Later that night~

John and Sherlock walked into their flat, holding hands and laughing after seeing a James Bond film at the cinema. They shed their coats to the coat hanger and John began to walk to the bedroom, but Sherlock grabbed his hand and pulled him towards him. He gave his doctor a kiss, then dropped to his knees and kissed his tummy.

"I love you, both of you." He stood up and John kissed him again.

"We love you too." Sherlock's look turned a bit uneasy, as though he were unsure of something. "What's wrong, Love?"

"What, what if he or she doesn't like me?"

"Oh, Sherlock," John said as he put a hand on the back of Sherlock's neck, tangling his hands in the dark curls, "Or baby is going to love you."

"But, what if I'm not a good father?"

"You'll be great. We both have things to learn, but we'll learn them together and we'll love this baby and we'll be great parents. Just the fact that you're worried about this shows that you care." He placed a gentle kiss on Sherlock's lips. "And I know you will do all you can do to protect and love our child."

Sherlock smiled and rested his head on John's shoulder and wrapped his arms around the doctor. "Thank you."

John wrapped his arms around Sherlock as well and gave him a good hug. "Come on, let's go to bed."

* * *

**Sorry this chapter was so short, and not the greatest of chapters. I hope you liked it nonetheless! Shall update soon! But for now, back to watching The Conjuring :P**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Month 5- November

Sherlock awoke to the sound of John screaming in his sleep. He jerked awake to find John tossing and turning in bed, grasping at his shoulder, an army nightmare then.

"John, John wake up sweetheart, it's just a dream, it's not real!" Sherlock shook John's shoulder gently to wake him up, and used his other hand to sooth John's sweaty fringe out of his eyes. "Ssh, it's alright, sweetheart. It's not real, wake up, John."

John slowly started to wake up, breathing heavily and shaking. Sherlock held John in his arms to try and calm him down. They both knew that stress wasn't good for the baby, so John tried his best to calm down, but his nightmares were always so vivid, it was like being there all over again, sometimes it even took a few minutes after he woke up for them to stop.

"Ssh, it's alright. You're in London, not Afghanistan. I'm here with you, it's just you, me, and the baby, and we're all fine." He rubbed small, soothing circles on the side of John's large tummy with his fingertips, something that always seemed to help calm him down. The baby kicked at Sherlock's hand, making both parents smile. John too placed a hand on his stomach as the baby began kicking once more. "See, it's alright. The baby is fine, and so are you."

John's breathing evened out and he nodded, accepting the comfort he was receiving from his husband and their baby. They had decided not to know the gender until the birth, so it was still a mystery as to whether they would have a Sophia or a Peter. Some of their friends had started a bet as to what the gender would be, Mrs. Hudson and Donovan said boy while Molly, Lestrade and Anderson said Girl, and the losers had to pay the winners twenty pounds each.

John smiled at how he imagined Sherlock's face would look if Anderson won, it would be brilliant. Sherlock kissed John's tummy and wrapped his arms around his omega. John laid his head on Sherlock's shoulder before falling asleep once more, thankfully, not having anymore nightmares.

* * *

The next day was not good for John. His mood swings were in full blast, Anderson was a bigger idiot than usual and Donovan wouldn't shut her mouth, which was normal, but it was just… worse, today. Every little thing seemed to bug him one moment, then his whole world would crash down the next, then he would want nothing more than to kill everyone in the room the next, then he would feel guilty and upset for thinking such things. The whole thing just gave him a headache. The doctors said he would have one bad day a week, and if this wasn't it he was terrified for that day to come.

John and Sherlock walked through the door to the flat. John laid his keys down on the table and removed his jacket in hollow movements. Sherlock, being the genius he is, noticed this and as John walked away towards their bedroom, Sherlock grabbed his wrist lightly and half-pulled half-walked-up-to him, wrapping his arms around his waist. At the sight of tears in his lovers eyes, he removed one arm and rubbed John's back gently. John wrapped his arms around Sherlock and sniffled, but that was about all he did, he just let the tears fall, still feeling hollow.

"I love you," Sherlock said in a low, calming baritone voice. John nodded into his chest.

"I bloody hate mood swings." John mumbled. Sherlock chuckled a bit.

"Yeah, I know, but it will all be worth it when we get to hold Sophia or Peter in our arms." He could feel John nod against his chest. He lead John over to the couch and laid against the back of it. John laid down on the main part and Sherlock wrapped his arms around him. He rubbed John's tummy with the pads of his fingers, a way of calming John down when he was upset, especially when the baby started to kick, it was as though the baby was saying 'I love you, daddy'.

Sherlock hummed the tune of a song he remembered John saying he liked, though he couldn't remember the words. John smiled at Sherlock's way of calming him down. He could feel himself transitioning into a better mood already, and all he could think was 'it's about bloody time'.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you, Love."

Sherlock kissed his hair. "Only four more months, then we'll have our baby," he paused here to kiss John's hair again, "we'll be able to hold them in our arms, see if they have your nose and my eyes, or your ears and my mouth, whose hair color and hair type. We'll be able to hold him or her in our arms, feel their soft skin, watch as they see the world for the first time."

"I can't wait," John said, smiling brighter than he had in a few days, "four months seems like such a long time."

"Yeah, but we've made it this far. It's been hard, but we got through it and look how far we've come."

John smiled and leaned his head up to kiss Sherlock, saying all he needed to say in that one movement of lips against lips.

Mrs. Hudson found them like that an hour later, wrapped in each others arms on the couch fast asleep. They each had a hand on John's stomach, and she could see small sections of his tummy push out as the baby kicked. She was as glad that this pregnancy had worked, she was almost as heartbroken as the parents when they lost Peter, he was her honorary grandson, and it hurt to see them in so much pain. She smiled at her boys and draped a blanket over them, then gave them each a kiss on the forehead; they were the sons she never got to have, and she loved having them around.

* * *

John woke up with a stiff back, which wasn't anything new considering the fact he was pregnant, and Sherlock with a stiff shoulder. They had only been asleep for three hours, but apparently that was long enough to become sore. John sat up, allowing Sherlock to do the same, and stretched out. He noticed that his stomach was jerking in regular, though short, intervals. He put a hand on his tummy and rubbed it soothingly. Sherlock must have noticed this also, because when John looked up at him, he was looking worried at John's round stomach.

"Is everything alright?" he asked worried.

"It's fine, Sherlock," John reassured.

"Then what's happening? It doesn't look like it's kicking."

"Don't worry, Sherlock. The baby just has the hiccups."

"Hiccups?" John nodded and smiled at the confused look on his face. "I didn't know unborn babies could get the hiccups."

"I didn't either until the doctor told us at the last appointment."

"Huh," he said, thinking no doubt. "What does it feel like?"

"It's hard to describe, but, I guess it feels like something tiny leaping in my stomach."

"Interesting."

"Yes, well, it's definitely a different feeling." John moaned in pain as he attempted to crack his back, causing him to almost fall over backwards. Sherlock caught him and sat him on the couch facing the window as he sat behind him, and began working out the knots in his lovers back. John moaned again, but this time from the relaxing feel of his back being loosened.

"Better?"

"Much," John sighed out. He loved being pregnant for the sole fact that he could feel his baby inside him, that it could feel safe and be with him everywhere, but he hated it at the same time because it was uncomfortable, he was almost always hungry, completely bipolar, and for the first few months, he felt like he was going to fall over from all the added weight to his front. He sighed and shook his head at all the downsides though because they all lead to one big bright side, and that was little Peter of Sophia that was currently residing inside his warm, safe tummy. When Sherlock was done massaging his back, John forced him to sit still while he rubbed the knot out of his shoulder. Sherlock whined about having to sit still, though he really did enjoy the feeling of having a mobile right shoulder again.

"There, was that so hard?" Sherlock grumbled a 'no' and John chuckled. Thank god for Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade, he wasn't sure if he could take care of two children on his own. He didn't mean that seriously, of course. Well, not for the most part. Sherlock was going to be a wonderful father, he could tell by how much he already cared for the child. John had woken up early a few nights ago to the sound of Sherlock rubbing and talking to his tummy.

"_Hello in there, I'm your Papa. I can't wait to meet you, Peter of Sophia. We still have four months until we get to meet you, but, we already love you, so much, and you make your daddy and I very happy. I can't promise we'll be the best parents, but we will love you and we will take care of you the best ways we know how. You're daddy and I take up half of each others hearts, and the other half of our hearts belongs to you. We love you, and we can't wait to meet you." _

He had sealed his little monologue off with a kiss to John's bare, smooth tummy before snuggling up to John, who was pretending to be asleep but had a sweet smile on his face.

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**Hope you liked this chapter! Don't forget to fave, follow and review, BUT NO FLAMES**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Month 7-January

John felt huge. He felt like someone had shoved a small watermelon inside his womb and it continued to grow. He had been gaining weight in his arms a bit more and his stomach was still growing, amazingly he thought. There were times that his skin felt like it would tear open and others it felt like his stomach would just fall off. He began having Braxton Hicks a few weeks ago. He and Sherlock were worried that the baby was coming prematurely, but thankfully, this was completely normal, and he was glad that he didn't start having them at six weeks like some omegas.

He was in week 27 of his pregnancy, nearing in on the date but it seemed to slow down as it got closer. At their last ultrasound, they had been told that the little one had began to suck its thumb and open it's eyes, and that the baby was developing quite well.

Another thing that came with nearing the end of a pregnancy was a baby shower. John and Sherlock had discussed it, and decided that they really didn't want to have one. They agreed to have a few friends over to the flat, but not to make anything big out of it, since it really wasn't either of their thing to have big parties. Lestrade, Molly, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, Mike and Drew were coming over in a few hours for the… whatever they were calling it… but right now, John just sat on the couch, watching the snow as it fell onto the streets and London. He smiled as he felt a blanket drape around his shoulders, and pulled it tighter around his shoulders.

"What are you looking at?" Came Sherlock's deep baritone voice.

"Just watching the snow fall."

"Dull."

"Relaxing."

"Relaxing is dull."

John huffed a laugh as Sherlock sat down in his chair, staring at the kitchen. "What are _you_ looking at?"

"Nothing."

"_Dull,_" John said, mimicking his husband. The alpha smirked and looked over to him.

"Mimicry does not suit you well, John."

"It doesn't suit you either."

"Don't be daft, of course it does."

"If you say so," John said as he laid down on his side. The doctor told him it was better for the baby if he lay on his side, as opposed to on his back. He shifted until he was comfortable, then pulled the blanket over him and sighed sleepily, missing the genuine smile that Sherlock gained at the sight. He walked over and kissed John's temple, before walking to the fridge and pulling out a jar of fingers for an experiment.

Three hours later, Lestrade, Molly, Mycroft, Mrs. Hudson, Mike and Drew were all gathered in the flat, some drinking water, such as John, Drew, Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock, and some of the others drank some for of alcohol, such as Mycroft, Lestrade, Molly and Mike. They laughed and talked, some about work, some about Sherlock's cases, but mainly, obviously, about the pregnancy.

It was a bit odd for John, everyone talking about the life residing inside him for another four months. Before meeting Sherlock, he assumed he would marry a female omega, have children that the female would give birth to, and live that sort of life, but instead, he married an alpha male, the world's only consulting detective no less, and was now carrying their child. He and Sherlock were both nervous, after the first pregnancy and due to the fact that there were often difficulties with male pregnancies.

He pushed the thought from his head and focused on what people were saying to him.

"What does it feel like?" Mike asked. Mike was also an omega but was married to a women, therefore never experienced being pregnant.

"It's strange, but good at the same time. It's strange to feel something alive moving around inside of me."

"I'd suppose," Drew answered. "Do you know the gender?"

"No, we decided to wait this time around," Sherlock answered.

"A bit of a surprise, then?" Molly piped up.

"Yeah, we can't wait to meet him or her," John said as a smile grew on his face.

"Neither can we," Mrs Hudson said. After the parents-to-be she was the most excited about the baby.

"And the yard can't wait to have you back on cases," Lestrade said.

"Yes, I miss your presence there as well," Sherlock said, wrapping an arm around John's waist, rubbing his hip with his thumb.

"I think Anderson's about ready to smack him, at this point," Greg John, and everyone chuckled, except sherlock, who just rolled his eyes. The chuckling continued, until John grasped his stomach and took in a sharp breath of air.

"John?" Sherlock asked, all attention on the omega.

"Is everything alright?" Greg asked, worry tainting his voice.

"Braxton Hicks, a pain in the ass but harmless."

"Come on John, I'll take you to the bedroom," Sherlock said. He stood up and helped John to stand. John inhaled sharply again but managed to move his feet in the direction of their room. Sherlock opened the door for him and helped John strip to his pants, then pulled the duvet back for him. Once John laid down, Sherlock gave him a kiss, then kissed his round tummy, then covered them with the cover. "I'll be right back," he said softly, then walked out to the guests.

"He okay?" Mike asked.

"Yes, this is completely normal."

"How do you know if they're the real thing or not?" Mrs. Hudson asked.

"Sixty seconds each, five minutes apart for an hour. That's when he have to take him in."

"I see. Well, dearie, we'll leave you too for some privacy." Sherlock thanked the guests as they began to leave, then shut the door and walked back to John.

Sherlock found the doctor breathing in deep and slow, trying to relieve the pain a bit.

"You doing okay?"

"Yeah, thanks." Sherlock smiled and stripped to his pants, then got into bed besides his husband. John curled up into Sherlock's side and nuzzled his face into his husband's neck, and Sherlock grabbed one of his hands and intertwined their fingers.

"I ruin everything," John said quietly after a moment of silence. Sherlock tried not to sigh, he knew it wasn't John's fault, he was just going through the mood swings that comes with a pregnancy.

"It's hardly your fault, John, it's not like you can decide when you get these things."

"I know, but…" John just sighed and closed his eyes, really not enjoying yet another spell of randomized moods.

"Only two more months," Sherlock said reassuringly.

"Good," John said tiredly, "this is painful and I just want to hold our baby."

"Me too. Soon, my love, soon."

John smiled and Sherlock placed a kiss on his head. It always seemed that the closer the date got, the slower time passed. Two months were going to drone on, but there was nothing they could do to speed it up, so John enjoyed the pregnancy while it lasted, aside from the pain of course.

He closed his eyes and pulled the blanket up around his bare shoulders as Sherlock rubbed his protruding tummy, soothing himself, and the baby, into a much needed sleep.

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**Hope you liked it! Don't forget to fave, follow and review, BUT NO FLAMES**


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Month 9- March

John was a week past his due date, and it felt as if now that the time had come, the baby decided they liked it inside his womb and that they decided to stay there. John had tried several of the things his doctor told him about to try and induce labor, but nothing was working so far, and he felt like giving up. Every Day the baby would kick and kick but his water never broke, and the Braxton Hicks were almost forgotten, John never really got them anymore.

John was now seated on the couch, a book in one hand and a sandwich in the other. It was raining outside, so this seemed like the best option. Sherlock was out, _actually getting the milk_ for John. He didn't want to leave, incase John went into labor, but the army doctor told him he'd be fine for the ten minutes it would take the genius to get there and back. A few minutes after Sherlock left, the baby decided that he or she was hungry, so he scavenged for food through the flat to find cheese and bread. It sounded better than nothing, so he threw three slices onto two pieces of bread and grabbed his copy of _The Hobbit _(he had gotten Sherlock the entire _Lord of The Rings _series for his birthday, which he enjoyed very much). He tried sitting in his arm chair, but with his large stomach, it was hard to sit up straight, but it hurt his back to slouch, so he moved to the couch, where he could sit in a comfortable position. He pulled one of the many orange blankets that littered the flat off the top of the couch and wrapped it around his shoulders.

After a half hour, John put the book down and rubbed his stomach, getting sleepier and sleepier with every circle, he almost missed it when Sherlock came back up.

"Hello, John. Sorry it took so long, I didn't know what kind you wanted, so, I got them all."

This got John's attention. He looked over to the table in the kitchen to see Sherlock placing upon it, 11 different kinds of milk. A laugh escaped his lips as he looked at the assortment. There was skim, soy, rice, almond, different brands, sizes, some in value packs and more.

"Sherlock, Love, this is very sweet, but you could have just texted me what kind instead of buying _all _the different types of milk."

"Yes, but I didn't want to bother you, you need to rest." John's smile warmed his heart, and John got up and walked to him, wrapping his arms around the detective's neck as his own lanky arms wrapped around the doctor's waist. John pulled Sherlock down and placed a loving kiss on his cupid's bow lips

"I appreciate it, but what are we going to do with _all_ this milk? Most of it will probably spoil before we can even use it."

"I'll use some of it for my experiments, Mrs. Hudson can have some if she would like." John smiled and kissed the detective sweetly once more.

"I love you, you wonderful man."

"I love you too, my ever faithful blogger, flatmate, best friend and husband." John hugged the man, but froze when he felt something similar to a water balloon popping between his legs.

"Uh, Sherlock…" he said, his heart beat speeding up a bit. He looked down, eyes widening, and saw his trousers growing from dry to wet quickly, and when he looked at Sherlock, he was doing the same. His breathing quickened a bit as he looked back down. Before either of them could say anything, John grabbed his stomach and winced as his contractions began, and Sherlock had to help hold him up.

"Come on, let's get you to the hospital," Sherlock said, unable to hide all of the franticness in his voice. John heard it but chose to ignore it as he painfully walked down the stairs. Sherlock hailed a cab and helped John inside it. He tried to calm John down, but only made himself more frantic.

"Sherlock." John said loudly, unable to get the alpha's attention any other way. He forced a smile as the contraction came to an end and cupped his cheek, "It's going to be alright." Sherlock smiled and kissed John's hand, then scooted even closer to him and rubbed his stomach, though it felt different now. He pulled out his phone and sent a text their friends, telling them it was time. Another contraction occurred right as they showed up to the hospital, this one worse than the first. As soon as he walked through the doors a nurse got him into a wheelchair and wheeled him into a room, Sherlock following right behind.

They quickly got John ready and hooked him up to the necessary machines, then gave him an epidural for the pain. They checked to see how dilated John was, and once he was dilated about six centimeters, the real fun began.

Sherlock, who for once ha no idea what he was doing, was told to help push John's leg back. He did so, then held John's hand with his free one. He knew that John was strong, but he never fully understood just _how _strong an ex-soldier could be. He bit his tongue to keep from groaning in pain at the near-bone-crushing hold as he did as he was told.

"You're doing great, John," he said, loudly enough that the doctor could hear him over all the shouting in the room. Curiosity got the better of him and he peeked at what was going on. He could just barely see the baby's head as John pushed once again. It was amazing, really, watching his child being born, and it made him feel happy and excited. The baby's head was now out, with the next push the baby was to it's shoulders.

"Okay, John, one more push for me, alright?" the doctor instructed. With another yell, John pushed, and their baby was born. A beautiful cry filled the room as the doctor removed the baby the rest of the way, then called out "It's a boy!"

John smiled a teary smile. "Peter," he breathed out, they finally had their Peter. His head fell against the pillow as the baby was washed off, weighed, and checked over.

"You did great, sweetheart," Sherlock said. He leaned down and brushed some of the hair from John's sweaty forehead and laid a sweet kiss there. He then kissed the hand that was still clutched in his own.

A nurse walked over holding a crying bundle wrapped in a blue blanket which she placed ever so delicately into John's arms. The fathers looked down lovingly at their son. Peter had, or would have, blonde curly hair, had his daddy's (John's) nose, his Papa's (Sherlock's) lips, John's ears and facial structure and Sherlock's captivating eyes. The small baby's cries began to stop once he was placed in the loving arms of his daddy.

"God, he's so beautiful," John said quietly as happy tears ran down his cheeks.

"He is, isn't he?" Sherlock said, not noticing his own tears.

John's smile grew when Peter made a small moaning sound. "Hello, Peter, I'm your daddy. It's nice to finally meet you," John said quietly. He kissed the baby's soft forehead, to which Peter flexed his tiny fingers. "Do you want to hold him?" John asked as he looked up at Sherlock. Sherlock looked nervous. He had never held anything so small _and_ delicate in his life, and wasn't entirely sure how. "It's easy," John said, picking up on his unsureness, "Just hold him in your arms and mind his head." He gently slipped Peter into Sherlock's arms, and smiled at the look on Sherlock's face, telling him to relax.

Sherlock did as he was told and looked down at his tiny son as he slept in his arms. He moved a little bit at the feeling of being moved, but settled down and opened his eyes. Sherlock smiled as he sat down in the chair next to John's bed. "Hello, Peter. It's nice to meet you. You're daddy and I love you, so much." He too then placed a loving kiss on his son's small forehead. He gently laid a hand on Peter's stomach, and to his surprise, Peter latched a tiny hand onto one of his fingers. Sherlock looked up at John and smiled, tears in his eyes once more when a nurse-apparently the doctors had left them to their privacy- knocked on the door. There are some visitors here for you."

"Yes, thank you," Sherlock said as he handed Peter back to John, then got up and walked into the waiting room. Lestrade, Molly, Mycroft and Mrs. Hudson were all looked up simultaneously when Sherlock walked into the room.

"Well," Lestrade said, "Boy or girl?"

For the first time in his life, Lestrade saw Sherlock smile a genuine smile. "It's a boy, our son, Peter." Mrs. Hudson got up and hugged him.

"Oh, Sherlock, congratulations."

"Thank you. You can come see him if you wish." Lestrade, Molly and Mycroft got up and followed Sherlock into John's room. John was still holding Peter, as to be expected, as the the tiny boy slept.

"Oh, he's adorable," Mrs. Hudson said.

"He is, isn't he," John said, looking up from his son to his landlady. "Would you like to hold him?"

"Of course I would, Dearie," she teased. She walked over and John placed Peter in his honorary grandmother's arms. She went over and sat in a chair as Lestrade moved over to John's bed.

"Congrats, mate, he's beautiful."

"He really is."

"Glad he's finally born then?"

"Yeah, though I think I'm going to miss it a bit."

"I can understand that."

Mycroft and Sherlock were stood over by the window, Sherlock looking at the display with a smile on his face, and Mycroft looking out the window.

"Congratulations, Sherlock, I'm proud of you." In response, Sherlock just nodded, still smiling.

"What if… what if I'm not a good father?"

Mycroft sighed and looked at his brother. "I have no doubt in my mind that you and John will be excellent fathers."

"Careful, Mycroft, that was a compliment."

"I'm serious, Sherlock. I can see it in your eyes when you look at you family that you love them _both _very much. I know for a fact that you will do everything to keep John and your son safe."

Sherlock didn't say anything for a minute, and just continued to look at his husband and son, but then he looked over to Mycroft. "Thank you." Mycroft smiled and looked at his watch.

"I have to get back to work. I will stop by some time where I won't have to be interrupted." Before Sherlock could say anything, he turned and left the room. Sherlock followed him and stopped at John's bedside, sitting on the edge and holding John's hand in his own. John gave it a squeeze and smiled. At some point, Peter had been handed over to Molly, who was now cooing over the wee baby. John scooted over and Sherlock moved back to sit next to him.

"We have a beautiful family, don't we, Sherlock."

"Obviously," he chuckled lightly, a small smirk gracing his beautiful features. John smiled and kissed him. "We really do. I'm so proud of you, you did wonderful." He kissed the top of John's head and the army doctor laid his head on Sherlock's shoulder.

"Thanks. I'm proud of you too, you did pretty well during the delivery yourself." Sherlock smiled and rubbed John's sore back. John closed his eyes and sighed as Peter was handed off to the D.I. He was smiling down at the little boy, who was looking around the room with the curious eyes of his Papa. He had worked his tiny hands out of his blanket and was experimenting with them by clenching them into tiny fists, then he unclenched them again. His face began to scrunch up once more, then he began to cry. Lestrade handed him to John, then bid goodbye as he left to go back to work. Molly also had work to do and Mrs. Hudson was meeting Mrs. Turner at Speedy's for dinner. When it was just John and Sherlock, John handed Sherlock their son, then laid down to go to sleep, seven hours of labor could wear someone out.

Sherlock looked down at his son as he slept in his arms. He was a genius, everyone knew that, but he couldn't manage to wrap his mind around the fact that this little boy, his _son, _was a part of him, made from his and John's DNA. He looked at this tiny human being, and felt an obsessive need to protect him, one similar that he felt about John, but… more necessary. He got up and moved to a chair at the other end of the room, near the window. He sat down and placed a kiss on his son's forehead.

"Hello, Peter, I've never done anything like this before, but I want you to know that you and your daddy, you're the two single most important people in my life. I love you both so much, you're the two halves of my heart, and I will never let anything bad happen to you. I love you, so much, my beautiful boy."

Peter smiled in his sleep, at which Sherlock smiled sweetly. He placed another kiss on his son's forehead, then placed his son in his bed, then got on the bed next to John, wrapped the sleeping doctor in his arms, and fell asleep.

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**Only one more chapter, then I'm going to write a sequel about the Watson-Holmes family as Peter grows up! **

**Hope you liked it! Don't forget to fave, follow and review, BUT NO FLAMES**


	12. Epilogue

Sherlock walked around the flat with Peter in his arms, showing him around. They had gotten home from the hospital about an hour ago, and John was asleep in their bedroom. He walked around and showed him the few pictures that were up on the fireplace, pointing out who was who and what was what, he showed him John's and his chair, the smiley face on the wall, all sorts of things.

"And that's your Grandma Hudson, Grandma and Grandpa Watson, and Grandma and Grandpa Holmes. Grandma Hudson already met you, but your other grandparents can't wait." He glanced around the room, and spotted his violin. "I wrote a song for you, do you want to hear it?" In response, Peter looked up at him with those large, curious eyes. Sherlock placed him in the crib the kept in the living room, picked up his violin, then began playing a sweet, gentle piece that he composed a few weeks ago.

The song was decent length, about four minutes long give or take, but Peter seemed to enjoy it. He once again smiled in his sleep, and once the song ended, Sherlock walked over and picked his son up once more.

Peter was getting tired, so he took him into the bedroom to put him to bed, but stopped when he saw the familiar black and white photo on John's bedside table, the photo they had looked at every night since… the incident happened almost a year ago. "And this," he said quietly, so that he didn't wake John, who was snoring softly, "this is your big brother. His name is also Peter, you're named after him. He didn't get a chance to live, but we love him very much, and I'm sure he would love you too. We love you, Peter, very, very much, and we will protect you for the rest of our lives."

By the time he was done speaking, Peter had already began to fall asleep. Sherlock sat in the rocking chair John's mother gave them and rocked gently, until he was sure his son was asleep, then placed him in his crib and walked to the door, smiling at his family before walking out of the bedroom to look at a case file.

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**Thanks for reading! I hope you all liked it! Like I said in the last chapter, I will be writing a sequel about Peter growing up called "Through the years".**

**Don't forget to fave, follow and review, BUT NO FLAMES!**


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